Perfect Illusion
by AxCfangirl
Summary: Perfection is an illusion. Nothing is truly perfect. No one is really perfect. Lacus knows it very well. But she may have to become perfect in order to protect her heart. Post-GSD


**A/N**: This isn't really a sequel to my other fics. But if you read "Water and Land" and "The Girl of the Past," you get a good idea of my view on Lacus, and it will make it easier for you to understand this fic.

Likewise, the third part of "If I Hadn't Met You" and my note on the last page of the fic show you how I see KiraLacus relationship in GSD, which should be helpful as well.

Also, note that unlike my other fics, Athrun never stayed in PLANT after GSD to work there as an Orb soldier. He accompanied Kira when Kira came to the country to become a White Coat in ZAFT, but it was only a short visit. He soon returned to Orb and has been working there as an Orb soldier.

···

English is not my first language. Please bear with grammatical errors.

And for your information, my fic is based on the remastered version (but I watched the original version, too).

**Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD.**

* * *

**Perfect Illusion**

* * *

Lacus has waited until she is sure her boyfriend is sound asleep. Then, she silently sits up and slides down the bed. Her nightgown and underwear, mingled with his pajamas and underwear, are scattered around on the floor, visible thanks to the moonlight coming in between the curtains. She picks up hers to put on, and his to fold and place on her vanity chair.

She moves quietly and he doesn't even stir while she is taking care of the task and then leaves their bedroom.

Just as silently, she walks down the corridor and the stairs, then goes out into the garden. She walks a little while before starting to sing.

Wandering around the garden, keeping a safe distance from the house, she sings whatever comes to her mind, though her voice is so soft that it is barely a whisper. She wants to eliminate any possibility that someone may overhear it. She doesn't want anyone to hear the songs, what she puts in them.

But she needs to let out these emotions swirling in her chest in some way, and this is the only way she can think of. So, she sings one song after another, moving her feet as well as her mouth. She doesn't pay much attention to her steps despite it being dark; she has become quite familiar with the landscape of the garden during the past month in which she frequently took a night stroll like this.

She doesn't know how long she has kept singing and walking, but her feet start to feel heavy. She changes her direction, walks over to a bench by a large lake, and sits down there.

A lake. Her namesake. She watches its surface, which is calm and looks like a mirror, reflecting the sky above. Once in a while, the wind causes ripples, disturbing the perfectly composed picture, but it never reaches what is inside the water. The cool surface never shows what is deep down there.

How suitable this name is to her. To the Songstress of Peace. To the woman PLANT citizens admire as a perfect goddess.

She feels like laughing or crying, or maybe both at the same time. But neither reaction happens. Her body only stirs a little.

Perfection is about the surface. There is nothing truly perfect. You can always find flaws if you look closely enough, or deep enough into it, passing the perfect surface. She knows it very well. She is a symbol of perfection, after all.

A perfect lady. A perfect woman. A perfect human being. A perfect creature. That is how many people perceive her.

The key to appearing perfect is not to let anyone come too close so that no one can see your true self underneath the surface.

That is what she has been doing, though the purpose isn't making herself look perfect. She keeps people at bay because she is afraid of pain. The closer someone becomes to you, the more easily and deeply they can hurt you. Opening up to someone is risky.

She knows her weaknesses. She isn't strong enough to show all sides of her to the world and make herself vulnerable. She isn't brave enough to easily take such a risk, the risk of rejection. The only person she has completely opened her heart to besides her parents is Kira.

Kira.

At the thought of him, she presses her chest with both hands. She closes her eyes and gasps, trying to ease the pain. But it doesn't diminish. It doesn't go away.

She doubles over, burying her head into her knees. The pain is too much for her to even cry.

This is the cost of opening up. This is the result of her having taken the risk. This is the price of love.

People who dislike her, who throw hurtful words at her, can never reach her core, can never give her this much of pain. All they can do is stab and gouge the walls she builds around her heart, no matter how deep they get. But Kira can touch—and break—the tender heart inside. Because she let him in.

She tries to sing, which is her usual way to release emotions or soothe her pain. But her voice doesn't come out even as a whisper. The pain is too much. Her heart is too broken.

She soundlessly moves her mouth for a while, then gives up. She circles her arms around her body to hug herself. Despite the warm air, she feels cold. She feels alone. So alone.

* * *

Kira looked miserable and ashamed.

"I was so drunk. And...feeling lonely, and she was so kind and fun to talk. At first, we were just flirting a little. Not—not seriously, just jokingly, you know, friendlily. But then, one thing led to another and somehow we ended up..." He closed his mouth, then after a moment, repeated what he had said in the beginning of this conversation. "I'm sorry, Lacus. I'm so sorry."

Lacus had just returned from work. Due to her busy schedule recently, she had not been able to come home last night though she had talked a little with Kira before he left work and headed for a bar to drink with some of his co-workers since most of them had the next day off. She had been happy about his plan, happy that her boyfriend seemed to be making new friends.

As she came home this evening, she had sought him out, expecting to hear some fun stories, even ridiculous drunken shenanigans perhaps. A maid had informed her that he had not returned home until morning, and after coming back, had been locking himself in their bedroom all day without having a meal. Worried that he might be sick, Lacus had hurriedly come to the bedroom to find him sitting on their bed, clutching his head in his hands.

She had sat next to him and touched his shoulder, gently asking whether he was all right. It had taken him a minute to finally look up at her. And he had averted his pale face quickly. But during the short time they looked at each other, she had sensed something was really wrong. There had been guilt all over his face.

Bracing herself for whatever she was going to hear, she had calmly asked him what had happened. He had taken a few shaking breaths, then, as if collapsing under the weight of what he had done, had choked out an apology. A confession that he had slept with another woman had followed, which took Lacus completely off guard.

She had felt like she had been struck by lightning, unable to speak or move, which was quite rare for her. As if compelled by her silence, he had started explaining. As she listened involuntarily, anger had started to rise inside her. But it wasn't just because of what he had done. Half of the anger was toward the fact that he had had to tell her about it.

Why did he have to be like this? Why hadn't he been able to resist the temptation? Why couldn't he be stronger and more disciplined...like her? Or at least strong enough to keep the incident—the affair—secret, keep the heartbreaking, world-shattering truth to himself without letting guilt get to him? Why did he have to be so open, honest to a fault?

No matter how much she wished otherwise, the words had already been spoken and she had heard them, however. They couldn't be erased now. She couldn't get what he had done out of her mind. And it made her angrier.

_But that's why you love him_, her mind coolly pointed out. She loved him because he was different from her. His openness and honesty had been part of what had attracted her to him.

After the second apology, he had fallen silent, his head hung low. Watching him, she felt the anger receding. Or rather, it felt like _she_ was receding, from the anger, from her feelings, from her body. She was cold and numb.

And the part of her that always unemotionally observed the situation and calculated her behavior kicked in.

As if listening to someone else speaking, she listened to her voice say, "I understand, Kira." It was quiet, but not emotionless. There was understanding and even gentleness. It was perfect. Of course it was. She had had a lot of practice. "I know it has been tough for you. Moving to PLANT and starting a new job at ZAFT. I should have been more attentive. I should not have neglected you so much and made you feel so lonely." The words rolled off her tongue smoothly. She knew what to say. She always did. Lacus Clyne always did.

His head jerked up. "I didn't mean to put the blame on you. It's—"

"I know," she cut him off, still gently but a little forcefully.

She didn't want to hear any more apologies, any more explanations. What change could they make anyway? What could they do except prolonging this painful conversation?

So she said, "What I am saying is that I understand." Her lips even curved up in a small smile, which must look sad but tender. "You did not mean it to happen. Everyone makes mistakes. Just because you made mistakes, it does not mean you are a bad person. What matters is that you know it was wrong and feel remorse. And I know you are truly sorry about it."

Tears welled up in his eyes. His arms pulled her into a hug, which she didn't resist.

"Thank you. Thank you, Lacus. And I'm really, really sorry. I promise I'll never do such a thing again...I love you."

She put her hands on his back, returning his embrace, which was what she was supposed to do. "I know, Kira. ...I love you, too."

She wondered whether he noticed she had not said she forgave him. Just because she could understand why he had made the mistake, it didn't mean that she could forgive him for it.

Maybe he had not noticed what she had not said. Or maybe he knew, at least deep down, that it didn't matter. That there was no other way for her than to accept his apology and act like she didn't blame him.

_You always have another option_, the impassive voice inside told her.

_But I can't choose it. I can't_, she replied.

So, she had to choose this.

She just couldn't say that she forgave him yet. She just couldn't forgive him yet. Now, she wasn't so sure that she could do it someday. She didn't even know whether she wanted to.

* * *

Slowly, she straightens herself. The pain isn't gone, but the numbness mercifully has taken over her as it always does after some time. She can still feel the pain is there, but not the full impact of it.

She looks around to make sure no one has wandered out into the garden while she was having a breakdown, which she isn't sure how long continued for. There is still no one in her sight. Her eyes just slide over the dark garden, taking in the details she didn't see while walking around some time ago.

Everything in the garden is perfect as well as everything in the house. The grass is cut, the trees are trimmed, the flowers are tended. And they, including the lake, are thoughtfully arranged in a way people can enjoy watching the garden no matter which part of it they are at. Garden lamps are emitting soft light so that the garden looks pretty enough even at night.

A breeze caresses her cheeks. She turns her eyes back to the lake to watch the ripples break out and then disappear.

As the lake returns to its mirror-like state, she looks up. The darkness full of constellations and the Milky Way with a shining half-moon near the center of the sky meets her eyes. There isn't even a single cloud that obstructs her view.

There isn't supposed to be. Clouds in the colony sky are only images projected on its roof, just like the moon and the stars. People like to see white clouds in the blue sky, and gray clouds covering the sky while it is raining is appropriate. But there is no reason to show clouds in a night sky when it isn't raining. They will just get in the way of moon viewing or star gazing. They are meaningless and unnecessary, and so they are eliminated. No, they aren't allowed to exist to begin with.

That is how the sky in a colony is. Always perfect, looking like it is supposed to. Nothing unexpected. Nothing unwanted. Exactly the way people want it. But it is just a projection on the colony wall. Nothing more. Just like other things that look perfect, it is a fake.

Lacus averts her eyes from the false beauty. But the sight of the garden, which was also artificially created and is kept to meet the standard of beauty, isn't helpful.

Closing her eyes, she lets out a small sigh. Then, a question comes to her mind from somewhere. Isn't the sky of a colony so beautiful because of its falsity, not in spite of it?

Is it possible that it's the falsity that attracts people rather than the beauty, even? After all, false perfection is more attractive, more appealing, than real imperfection. It is the ugly truth of the human world. The truth she has been gaining advantage from, whether willingly or unwillingly.

A dry, humorless laugh escapes her lips. She is truly a daughter of PLANT, a child of space colony, isn't she?

Her mind becomes focused on the feeling of a strand of her hair brushing her cheek, and she grabs it. She opens her eyes to stare at it.

Pink Princess. That is what some people call her, after her most distinctive feature. The unnatural color. The symbol of her artificial beauty. Pink hair is one of the features unique to Coordinators, a fruit of genetic engineering.

She wonders whether people of PLANT would love her less if she had hair of a different color. Do they love her because she looks like nothing but a Coordinator? Because she makes them believe more strongly in the superiority of Coordinators? Is that partly why they want to believe so much that she is perfect?

She always knew her looks mattered just as much as her words or actions. During the First Bloody Valentine War, people listened to her because she had been an idol. And she could become an idol partly because she had a pretty face.

She didn't mind it much before. Her face was just a means. If it makes people willing to give her the attention she needs, what is the harm? That is what she thought.

But right now, she doesn't want to look at her hair, and she is thankful that she can't see her face. She lets go of the strand of her hair in her hand, and her eyes wander around the sky again, looking for anything out of place even though she knows there is none.

She just wants to see something imperfect, something that wasn't created to meet people's approval. But she can't find any here. She wonders whether she can find some inside her house.

The only thing that comes to her mind is a bunch of seashells strung together in a necklace. The children at Reverend Malchio's orphanage made it and gave it to her before she moved back to PLANT. The seashells have random shapes, sizes, and colors, and they were put together not very neatly. Some people probably say the necklace is a disorganized mess, not properly made. But it is her treasure, a memento of her days on the Earth—and therefore, it has nothing to do with PLANT, or space.

The closest thing to imperfection that was born here in this colony is some insects some people find disgusting which must be somewhere around the estate. But their ancestors were intentionally brought to the colony by humans and are tolerated because their existence benefits human residents of the colony. And almost all of them were genetically engineered to enhance their usefulness.

Does living in a place where almost everything is artificially created and arranged to meet their needs and standards strengthen people's desire for artificial perfection? And desire to manipulate the world, desire for the power that makes it possible, even?

Maybe it isn't surprising that ex-Chairman Dullindal came up with a plan to prune the human race so that it would fit his idea of perfection, eliminating what he deemed unnecessary, artificially selecting which person should survive and thrive instead of letting the nature do the job.

Maybe he was a son of space colony as much as she is its daughter. She was aware of their similarities before. In fact, she has thought about it many times. But the belief is getting even stronger.

Come to think of it, while discussing the Destiny Plan, Kira once said that the plan was the ultimate product of the Coordinator society which had been manipulating even genes, the core of life, of human, in order to acquire all the power they desired.

And just like that, her thoughts are back to her boyfriend who must be in a post-coital deep sleep. The sex she and Kira had earlier tonight seemed to satisfy him.

But it felt empty to her. She couldn't throw herself in it like she had before. She mostly pretended, faking her reactions and emotions. Although her body responded to him to an extent, her heart remained untouched. It wasn't new. It has always been like that since he told her about the affair about a month ago.

Can she ever feel again the way she did before this whole thing happened? Not just about sex. But, more than anything, about Kira.

Or she may be asking a wrong question. Maybe what she really has to ask is whether she can ever forgive him. That is what is wrong with them, isn't it?

To be honest, though, she still doesn't know the answer. No matter how hard she tries, she can't figure it out. She feels she has to forgive him, but can't feel like it.

Maybe it is a good thing that when he confessed about the affair, he didn't directly ask for her forgiveness. Then, she would have had to either truly forgive him and say so, which she doubts she could, or admit to not knowing whether she could forgive him, which could strengthen his sense of guilt.

But a part of her is wishing that he had asked, that he had tried to know what she was truly feeling even if it would be unpleasant to him. She wants him to try to know her, the real her behind the invisible walls, which are even imperceptible to many people, she puts up around herself, the real Lacus Clyne she hides behind angelic smiles and innocent antics. He did that before. That is part of why she fell for him.

Does he not care enough to do that anymore? Or is guilt or shame preventing him from doing it, making him afraid of what he is going to find out? Is he going to ask her whether she has forgiven him someday?

At the same time, another part of her is afraid of the possibility. She wants him to know her, wants him to want to know her. But what if his knowing her pulls them apart instead of drawing them close?

She knows that you have to take some risks in order to acquire what you want. That you have to reveal how you truly are, who you truly are, if you want to gain complete acceptance, if you want to be loved fully.

She once took the risk, showing Kira that she wasn't a clueless girl who didn't seem to understand war and politics, who seemed to live in a world of fairy tales instead of the real world, a girl many people believed her to be. She showed him that she had the power and influence that enabled her to steal one of the newest mobile suits created and guarded closely by ZAFT.

And he simply accepted that was just another side of her instead of interrogating her how she could be so different from what she had appeared to be or being displeased by the part of her he had just found out about. It delighted her. It was the one final push that made her completely fall in love with him.

She could do it because she felt she could trust him, which was more based on her observation of him than her intuition. She isn't the type to act on instinct. A part of her always makes calculations almost automatically, and it decided that he was trustable, that he was worth the try.

She might have still revealed her hidden side to him if her mind was against it. Or she might not have, following her mind instead of her heart. She isn't sure, and it doesn't really matter. The fact is that she took the risk and won.

Were she to make the same decision, however, she doesn't know whether she could do the same thing. Both her mind and her heart are wavering. Her trust in him was ruined, not completely but badly enough, and is crumbling.

And it makes her scared, even terrified.

If she can't trust him...then whom else can she trust? When most people around her treat her as someone, a being even, completely different from them.

* * *

At the sight of Lacus, the only person standing in front of the elevator, a woman with scarlet hair, slightly showed surprise.

Shortly after the "incident," Lacus had pulled some strings and discreetly had the redhead, who had originally belonged to a division of the government which worked closely with ZAFT and thus Kira, transferred to another division so that either Lacus or Kira would rarely come across the woman. To be more specific, she had the woman's boss promoted to the head of a small, newly created division, using an excuse that it was a test for rearranging divisions so that the employees could work more efficiently, and had some of his subordinates including the woman transferred to the new division to continue working under the man.

Waiting for an elevator, Lacus started to skim through the documents in her hands and made a surprised sound. Then, with a sheepish face, she turned to her aide standing behind her and asked him to bring her a paper she had forgotten in her office. The aide accepted the request with a smile, handed her some of the papers in his hands in case he couldn't make it before the meeting she was going to attend started, and left for the elevators on the other side of the building.

Since the man was the only aide who had been accompanying her, other aides of hers taking care of tasks she had assigned to them before she left her office or on her way here, only Lacus and the redhead were left there.

Soon, the elevator arrived. The two women got into it. They were the only passengers as Lacus had expected. Few people came to this floor or left it in this time and day; the floor itself was rather deserted. The redhead was here only because of the task Lacus had masterminded to be assigned to her.

"Well done." Pushing a button for her destination, the woman opened her mouth. "You're such a good actress. Well, I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Though it was unnecessary. You could've just summoned me to your office if you like to have a private chat with me." The woman looked at her fearlessly.

Lacus reached out to push buttons as well: one for her own destination and one to close the elevator doors. As their bodies neared, the scent of the woman's perfume strengthened. It was mostly the scent of rose, which Lacus normally loved. It even reminded her of her favorite perfume, though the perfume might not remain her favorite after today.

"I do not think it would be good for either of us if people knew I wanted to talk to you in private. They would make assumptions, and talk," Lacus said with a hint of warning, straightening her body, as the elevator doors closed.

The woman did a clerical job in a rather unimportant position. Her being summoned to the chairwoman's office would surely invite gossip, especially with a reputation like the woman's. Some people had witnessed Kira and the woman being friendly, even their leaving the bar together, and it was already a liability. At least, the woman wasn't known to blab about with whom she had slept, which was a relief, albeit a small one. What had happened between Kira and this woman had to remain a secret. Otherwise, Lacus's supporters—her fans—would make Kira's life even more miserable.

The woman quirked a beautifully shaped eyebrow. "You mean, not good for _you_. And for your boyfriend."

"It can put you into an uncomfortable position," Lacus pointed out.

"Uncomfortable in your opinion. Not mine." The woman shrugged. "People already call me a whore or a home wrecker or whatever they like and treat me as such. It'd be nothing new." Then, she put on an overly thoughtful expression. "Actually, it'd be good for you, wouldn't it? You could have another opportunity to present yourself in front of the world as a perfect goddess and an innocent victim at other people's expense. Nothing new indeed."

Studying Lacus's face, the woman placed her hand in front of her mouth in a mocking manner. "Oops, did I hurt your feelings? I'm sorry. I may be too honest for someone like you. I'm so different from those flatterers you surround yourself with."

Lacus ignored the woman's taunting. "Why do you keep doing it? Involve with men already in a relationship. Do you not feel bad about making people suffer?" she forwardly asked. She wasn't in the mood to be diplomatic as usual.

The woman threw her hair behind her shoulder in a way only a certain kind of women could. The kind who knew how beautiful and sexy she was and wasn't afraid of showing it. "I just do whatever I like to do. I'm not ashamed of not complying with social norms. I'm not afraid of people hating me for being myself. If you dislike me or wanna blame me for it, do suit yourself.

"But I'm not the unfaithful one, you know. And I wouldn't force anyone to sleep with me." The woman paused, probably for effect, and raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Are you really blaming me for my choice? Or _his_ choice?"

Lacus kept her mouth shut, which widened the woman's smile.

"You, who preach we should confront our own weaknesses and take responsibility for our choices," the woman said in a singsong voice which contained a lot of ridicule, "the Songstress of Peace who is perfect and always right, is going against her own words? Or," the woman sneered, "does she think what everyone else should do doesn't apply to her because she is oh so special?"

She then made a mock thinking face. "I wonder if you were corrupted by the special treatment you always get? Or your natural arrogance makes people believe you deserve such a treatment? A chicken-and-egg question, hmm?"

"Did you...do it to get under my skin?" Lacus couldn't help asking.

The woman blinked, then an amused smile spread over her face. "I don't pretend I like you, especially when you're acting like, 'Nothing you say or do affects me because I'm so above you, you lowly being.' However, don't be so full of yourself. You don't have that much power over me. I pick who I sleep with solely based on my attraction. He's sweet and gentle and needed me. I liked that."

Lacus couldn't tell whether the woman was telling the truth, maybe partly because she was trying hard not to show how much the woman's words stung her.

"Believe it or not," the woman continued, "you're not the center of the universe. It's just those fanatics make you feel so." Somehow, the last sentence sounded gentler than the rest.

"You're no angel or saint they make you seem like. You're just a human no holier than me," the woman added as if sharing a secret no one else knew.

After a moment of weighing silence, she turned her body to fully face Lacus, all the amusement gone from her face.

"And as much as I dislike you, I feel sorry, Lacus Clyne." The woman looked straight into her eyes. "For you."

The words hit Lacus hard, more than any of the woman's previous words had. It would have been much better if the woman had laughed or threw insults at her. But the woman's eyes revealed genuine pity.

A burning sensation rose within Lacus's chest, and she slightly opened her mouth, clenching her hands into fists.

Precisely at the moment, the elevator dinged, as if snapping her back to reality. As if forbidding her to do what she had been going to do.

"It was nice talking to you. Good afternoon, Chairwoman Clyne." As the elevator door opened, the redhead smiled as if they had just had a perfectly normal and friendly conversation, though with a hint of disappointment. A middle-aged man standing in front of the elevator didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

The woman got off the elevator. As the middle-aged man got into it, Lacus's eyes followed the woman.

She walked toward a young man near the elevator, who smiled at her. They started to chatter joyously and walk away, touching each other rather too intimately. Some of the people around them raised eyebrows at their obvious and shameless flirting, and sent meaningful glances to the woman and exchanged whispers.

Lacus was sure the woman was aware of her surroundings. But the woman was acting like everything was fine. She even appeared to be enjoying the attention, regardless of its negative nature. Or maybe because it was negative. Lacus wasn't sure.

The way her fingers—manicured in vivid colors—touched the man's arm and chest, her lips—painted in bright red—whispered something into his ear, and her body—clad in clothes that accentuated her feminine curves—teasingly bumped his. It was a little overdramatic, but there was no hint of shame in it as far as Lacus could see.

She knew what she wanted. She got what she wanted. She wasn't sorry for it. She didn't abide by other people's rules.

Somehow the woman reminded Lacus of herself, and yet they seemed so different, almost opposite. Regret over her decision to meet the redhead and talk with her began growing inside her. She wished she had never known the woman. But she had not been able to stand not knowing what kind of woman her boyfriend had slept with.

"Young girls today."

A male voice, conversationally spoken, pulled her out of her thoughts. The middle-aged man standing next to her was shaking his head, his eyes on Lacus. "They should know better and follow your example, Chairwoman. After all, men choose a wise woman like you in the end. Well, not that those girls can be as perfect as you if they try. Commander Yamato is such a lucky man." He gave her an approving smile.

The only thing she could do was keep an elegant smile on her face while madly wanting to discard the pretense and being acutely envious of the redhead. She wished she could chase after the woman who had disappeared from her sight already. But it was as if the man's words and smile had her feet rooted in the floor.

Standing still, she felt like the redhead's laughter—ridiculing and pitying and strangely empathetic—was echoing inside the elevator.

* * *

Remembering the feeling, the imagined laughter, her hands twitch. A part of her wants to go and find the redhead, grab her and tell her that just because she acts in a way that fits people's expectations, it doesn't mean she is being a slave to them. A part of her that weirdly desires for the woman's understanding.

Lacus can go against other people's expectations whenever she wants. If she wants to quit her job, retreat to somewhere isolated like Reverend Malchio's island, and have a quiet and simple life with Kira, no one can stop her. No one can force her to stay and she has enough connections and resources to make the escape possible.

She isn't here because she was dragged to this place and chained to her current position against her will, just like Kira and her friends aren't in their positions against their will. They chose to participate in creating and protecting a peaceful world of their own free will, because that was what they themselves decided they should do, because they have their own reasons, own wishes.

It is how Lacus believes people should live.

She was always a free soul, doing only what she wanted to do. Although she spent a long time inside her father's estate before she decided to get involved in the First Bloody Valentine War, it doesn't mean she was caged. She chose to stay in; it was more comforting than interacting with people who seemed to have no intention of knowing her as a person, who only saw her as something that wasn't exactly a human whether it was an angel or an idol.

It wasn't like she disliked people generally. It was just tiring to keep trying to get others to treat her like a real person only to fail time and again. She needed the comfort of her home, of the small, sheltered world there, to soothe the pain so that she could gather enough courage and energy to try again.

She put up with people treating her that way partly because directly confronting someone wasn't her usual way especially back then, partly because it helped her father to have such a daughter, and partly because she understood it was a part of being a singer.

She loves to sing, and it is one of the ways she communicates with others. She puts her emotions, fragments of her heart, she can rarely openly express in songs, especially in her original songs; people loving her songs made her feel like her heart, or at least a part of it, was also loved, which was consoling.

But she controlled and limited her involvement in politics, and her work as an idol, so that they wouldn't prevent her from continuing to live the way she had lived, which might be a little lonely but peaceful and satisfying enough. Her father respected her choice and didn't try to coax her into making more public appearances even when people, including his aides and allies, wanted it.

Her engagement to Athrun was the same. Although she accepted the arrangement, she had no intention of letting it restrain her, limit her freedom. She didn't hesitate to go for Kira after falling in love with him, even before Athrun's father canceled the engagement or she heard about it. Had Patrick Zala not done it, she would have broken the engagement herself. And she didn't feel sorry for following her heart's desire.

It is partly because she was certain that there had never been any romantic feelings between herself and Athrun; they had been a betrothed pair, not an actual couple. But even if she had been going to break Athrun's heart, she would have chosen the same path. There was no way she would give up on being with Kira because of what other people had decided.

She had never decided to marry Athrun. All she had decided when she agreed with the engagement was to give the relationship a try. And she had tried. It wasn't her fault, nor Athrun's, that their relationship didn't work out, or that she had fallen for someone else. She saw no point in sticking with a relationship with someone she cared about but didn't love when she had finally found someone she could truly love, an actual chance to have a life with such a person.

However, it doesn't mean she is free from everything. No one can escape from themselves, their emotions, desires, and beliefs. And she is no exception.

Some people feel trapped by their duty, feel like something outside of them is somehow restraining their freedom. But duties can't actually bind people. What truly restrains you is your _sense of_ duty, your feeling that you have to fulfill the obligations people give you, whether it stems from your desire to become the kind of person who does it or your fear of what might happen if you don't do it. Duties can never bind someone who has no such feelings.

People are prisoners of their own feelings more than anything. And they are one of the toughest prisons, if not the toughest, to break.

In her case, it is not her sense of duty but her principles, her desire to be a person who follows them. She has been living in strict accordance with her beliefs even if it means putting her life or the life of someone she loves at risk.

A memory comes to her mind from the time when she was rescued by the Archangel and then became a captive there during the First Bloody Valentine War. When she first met Kira.

Worried about what might happen to her if she remained in the warship, he decided to free her. He came to her room while she was sleeping, woke her up, and tried to sneak her out of the warship. She appreciated his concern and attempt to save her.

At the same time, she was concerned that he might be acting on impulse, not having thought his decision through including what kind of position it would put him among his fellow soldiers afterward. Such a thoughtless action, even if it was well-intentioned, wasn't right in her opinion. If he was going to help her escape, she wanted him to do it while being mentally prepared for the consequences, so that he would be less likely to regret his decision.

So, she intervened. She ignored his attempt to hide her from his friends who were also soldiers, and revealed her presence to Miriallia and the boy called Ssigh, so that Kira could have a chance to face the gravity of his decision and think again about whether it was really the path he wanted to take.

She knew that it was risky, that taking such an action would lessen the possibility that she could return to home safely without becoming a bargaining tip of the Earth Forces or being harmed.

Still, her principles told her not to let someone make a "wrong" decision because of her. Her action was also based on the facts that she liked Kira, though she wasn't in love with him yet, and that he was a friend of Athrun's, another person she cared about. Her curiosity and desire to know Kira better influenced her decision as well.

In their previous conversations, he had seemed to understand her implied message, which was that you shouldn't associate someone's qualities, whether good ones or bad ones, with their race, that you should be yourself, a person, instead of being just a Coordinator or just a Natural.

He had also talked about Athrun who was now his adversary with affection. It had told her that he wasn't the kind of person who judged people based on whether they were on his side, and that he was strong enough to keep his fondness for someone who had become his enemy even though it must be painful, and strong enough to not hesitate to show the fact that he still liked the person.

She wondered whether he was also tough enough to follow through with his decision even after realizing that what he was doing could be harshly criticized by other soldiers, even his friends, tough enough to do what he believed was right even if others didn't agree with him.

And he passed her test with flying colors. Not only did he insist on continuing the attempt to set her free even though his friends appeared to disapprove of it at first, he was also determined to stay with his Natural friends to protect them. His promise to Ssigh to return to the Archangel after releasing her and the way he communicated with the Vesalius, a ZAFT warship, told her that he wasn't acting as a Coordinator, fleeing the "Naturals' worship" with her to escape to PLANT, a country of Coordinators, because that was what Coordinators should do. And he was apparently not acting as a soldier for a proper soldier should never release a captive against his superiors' will.

She felt certain that he was the kind of person who could make his own decisions without being restrained by what he was, which category he belonged to. A free soul like her, and a person with real strength. The deepened understanding of him made her feel close to him, and be hopeful that he might become someone who could truly understand her and accept her if they met again someday.

Her feeling of closeness toward him made her call him Kira, instead of Kira-sama she had previously used. And her hope made her firmly and authoritatively tell Klueze, a commander of ZAFT, not to fight in her presence, protecting Kira. Maybe his strength inspired her to show her own strength, which she almost always hid under a soft, feminine demeanor at that time.

And her hope didn't just come true. He turned out to be even more. He became a person she could completely love and trust, a person who made her happy.

Nevertheless, she actively let him fend for himself at Mendel later in the war, forbidding Athrun to go and help him who might be in grave danger. It was for the same reason why she had risked her life before: her principles. She had chosen to fight to stop the war, and once she made it, she was bound by her own choice.

At Mendel, that part of her which could make a calm judgment without letting her emotions get in the way made the decision. It told her that she had to do what was best to accomplish her goal of stopping the war, the goal she and Kira shared, even if it meant leaving the person who had caused her to pursuit the goal to begin with alone to die. Because of Kira, she had made a choice. Therefore, she had to follow through with it, even at the cost of him.

She believes that you have to follow through on your decision no matter what the cost is, because you can't accomplish anything otherwise. Like she had not stopped when her father had died because of their fight, she had to keep fighting even if Kira died, even if it meant letting him die. And whether fortunately or unfortunately, she was capable of doing it, no matter how much suffering the paradox caused her.

Although she might be a prisoner of her principles, however, she isn't one of social expectations. They are just like duty. No one can force you to conform to them unless you let them. She has known it for a long time, and been using the expectations in order to get what she wants instead of letting them restrain her. Or at least she believes so.

Place men above you. Let them lead you. Let them protect you. Hide your cleverness and strength, and be sweet and docile. It is how a good woman should be.

It is what Lacus was taught. It is how she was raised. And so, it is how she usually acts. It doesn't mean she pretends to be someone she isn't. She just emphasizes the parts of her that match the traditional idea of ideal woman, and hides the parts that don't, the parts that people don't seem very fond of, so that she will be more accepted and liked. As she grew up, she learned to put walls around her like that so that people couldn't see who she truly is easily, and hurt her by rejecting it; it became her second nature.

And the tendency to act that way is strengthened further when she feels an extra need to make people like her, at times like when she was held captive in an enemy warship, or when she was worried about her unclear relationship with a boy she loved after the First Bloody Valentine War until they officially became lovers in the middle of the Second Bloody Valentine War.

That tendency of hers somewhat diminished after she fell in love with Kira, and then some more after they became lovers. His complete acceptance of her made her more relaxed about revealing her hidden side to others or what they would think of her, and his returning her love made her feel safe and confident, which made it even easier for her to act differently from the way she was expected to.

Yet, it isn't to say that she no longer acts the way that conforms to the expectations of the society. Even now, working as Chairwoman, a traditionally masculine position, she is praised to be a perfect lady. Or rather, _because_ she is in such a position, she takes care to maintain that image, which isn't difficult for her.

She knows it is the easiest way to navigate through the political world and maintain popularity. People love to see what they want to see, what they expect.

She even has pictures of her and Kira or a story about their relationship leaked to the media when she takes a move which is controversial and can be seen as too bold. In the picture or story, she appears to be a perfect girlfriend, an ideal woman, indirectly sending a message that although she is intelligent and skillful and can be a little daring, it is never too much, never enough to threaten the status quo; that she would never deviate too largely from the path a woman should walk even though she has a "man's job" now. It makes people feel relieved and lower their guard, which in turn makes her job easier and more successful.

It isn't like the information she reveals to the public is lies. It may be a little exaggerated, and is made to look like something revealed without her knowledge instead of what is carefully selected and edited by her aides and approved by herself which it actually is. Still, if people stop to think, it isn't hard for them to realize that a person in her position wouldn't let so much of her private life be known unless she wants it to happen or at least tolerates it for some reason.

But then, people rarely bother. Or they just don't want to see the truth or make the effort, no matter how little it is, to figure it out. The fact that Dullindal was able to claim Meer was real Lacus Clyne when the girl was acting differently from the way Lacus had before the First Bloody Valentine War or during it is just one of many proofs.

More often than not, people see only what they want to see and believe only what they want to believe. And people in PLANT want to believe that Lacus is an ideal woman with no flaws who makes no mistakes and always knows the right answer, who is astute enough to be a tactful, outstanding politician, tough enough to be a capable leader, and yet genuinely innocent, too innocent to calculate her words and actions so that she can have her way, all at once. They don't want to realize how contradicting their beliefs are with one another, realize that no human can meet such impossibly conflicting expectations.

Sometimes, it makes her sad. Sometimes, it makes her wonder whether her hope in humanity, the hope she and her comrades share and advocate, is really legitimate. Sometimes, it makes her feel like screaming it isn't how she is, shredding the inhuman picture of Lacus Clyne the Songstress of Peace to tiny pieces so that no one, even herself or the most zealous fan of hers, can glue it back together. Sometimes, it makes her resent humans, especially PLANT citizens, for if they weren't like that, if they didn't project their perfect dream on her so much, she might not have had to leave the secluded life on the island. She might have been able to continue living peacefully, staying away from war and politics, the life she preferred.

And those people are brazen enough to say they love her. How can you truly love someone if you only see what you want to see and ignore the things about the person you don't want to see? If you don't even make an effort to know how they really are, who they really are? What you actually love is an image of the person in your head, an idealized version of them, not the real person.

She feels the darkness that is usually buried deep inside her rear its head and start crawling its way up, toward the surface. She never allowed it to take over her, to reach the surface and break out. But she is tempted to now.

And yet, she painfully knows she can't bring herself to.

What seems so easy for some people, like Kira or Cagalli, is so difficult for her. She has wished many times that she could throw away her charade and lay her truth, her whole self, bare for anyone to see, that she could let go of the tight control she had always been holding over herself as long as she could remember. But she can't.

And it isn't only because that isn't the kind of person she is. It is more than that. The truth is that she is afraid that once she hands the rein to her dark side, she may never get it back, never get herself back under control. And she is scared of what she will do then because she knows what she is capable of, how cold and cunning she can be if she needs to.

Those qualities in themselves aren't a bad thing. She has been using them, and her intelligence, the right way, handling them in a way they lead to a good result, a result that benefits many people, like regaining and maintaining peace.

However, they can easily be dangerous and disastrous. Just one look at what Gilbert Dullindal did will tell you. Or Raww Le Klueze. How they used their intelligence, their ability to read people and figure out what they needed to hear, to cajole people into doing what they wanted them to do, which in turn gave them a lot of power. How their cold determination to achieve their goals at whatever cost killed countless people. How their cunning manner, hiding their true selves behind a mask of smile and using elusive words so that their own words were less likely to be used against themselves and manipulating things from behind the scenes, made it possible for them to go so far as to nearly bring humanity to death, whether literally or figuratively.

If anyone can understand them, it is her. She has been doing the same thing, only on the other side of the battles. She knows, better than anyone, that she isn't so different from them. The only things that separate her from them, it seems to her, are her firm self-control and her faith in people, especially the former.

Her faith can be shaken, by the way people treat her as if she is not a real person, not a fellow human being. And _this_. This mistake of Kira's is further shaking her. Because if she can't trust the closest person to her, the person she loves most, the only person she ever trusted with her whole heart, anymore, if she can't have faith, or at least not as strong faith, in him anymore, how can she maintain her faith in people who is less trustable? People she never trusted with the truth about herself?

She simply can't risk losing her self-control, which may be the only protection that is left between the world and the harm she can inflict on it, when she is in a condition like this. She can't become the same as Klueze and Dullindal. She doesn't want to, ever.

Therefore, in order not to let one of her greatest fears come true, she has to maintain the control with all her might, no matter how much Kira's betrayal unsettles her, no matter how fragile it made her world.

Then, her lips quiver at the thought. No, it isn't that what he did made her world fragile. It had always been fragile. She just had not known it before Kira's affair revealed the truth: of her and of them.

* * *

"So you see, he was so full of prejudices and I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore." Cagalli's face on the screen had already been scowling, but it scrunched up further. "I tried to be diplomatic, I swear, but we ended up arguing anyway. Though not a full-blown argument. Just a...minor impropriety. Nevertheless, my aides scolded me afterward."

She made a pout, but then, let out a little sigh. "Well, I guess they had a point. He was an important guest and my job was to keep him in a good mood for Orb's sake. But still, I couldn't stand saying nothing to counter his bigoted beliefs."

Her face turned a little wistful. "Sometimes I envy you, Lacus. If you were there, I'm sure you could've shut him up without angering him. I'm still learning to be tactful like you."

Cagalli wasn't joking or teasing. Her envy was real, but there was no bitterness or self-contempt in her face and voice. She was simply acknowledging their difference, acknowledging what she didn't have and needed to acquire. She might have blamed herself for the lack of skill before the Second Bloody Valentine War. But she was already past it. Now, the knowledge appeared to just strengthen her determination to become better at her job.

In spite of that—or because of that—Cagalli's words caused something akin to ache in Lacus. It wasn't sharp; it was dull but lingering.

She vacillated a little, debating in her head, but decided to speak. "Can I ask you something, Cagalli-san?"

"Go ahead."

Lacus assumed a casual tone as she voiced the question. "What do you imagine you would do if Athrun had an affair?"

Cagalli was clearly taken aback. Lacus maintained a serene face as the blonde stared at her incredulously.

Cagalli opened her mouth, then closed it, and put on a thoughtful expression. After a minute, she answered, "Punch him in the face and kick him in the groin, probably." She hesitated before continuing, "But honestly...I can't imagine him cheating on me. You know how he is."

In fact, Lacus herself couldn't imagine it. Athrun had his weaknesses, but this wasn't one of them. He had too much self-control, and too much sense of morality, and he rarely acted on emotions—desires.

"It seems more likely that he breaks up with me than he cheats on me," Cagalli said, then hurriedly added, "Not that I'm being afraid he is going to break up with me. It's just...well, there is a possibility, you know."

Lacus did. Due to her strong devotion to Orb which often interfered with her relationship with him, and even prevented them from going public at least for the time being, Cagalli had some worries that Athrun might leave her, or that he might be happier with someone else. At least, though, the blonde didn't have to worry about her boyfriend having an affair, and Lacus was envious of that.

Not that she was going to let Cagalli know about it.

"Are you all right, Lacus? Did anything happen? Like...with Kira?" Cagalli asked worriedly, slightly leaning forward to examine Lacus's face on the screen on her side.

Lacus replied in a calm, reassuring voice, "Oh, I was just curious. But now that I think about it, it was abrupt and probably inappropriate. I am sorry if I disturbed you." There was an innocent smile on her face, the mask she had perfected over years.

"It's fine. I was just surprised," Cagalli returned, still appearing unsure.

The blonde regarded Lacus closely for a little while, then opened her mouth again. "You know, I'll be here to listen if you want to talk." She paused, then continued in a firmer tone, "About _anything_. You can count on me."

Even through the screen, Lacus could see that the amber eyes were shinning with sincerity. She knew Cagalli meant every word, and appreciated her offer. But she just smiled.

"I know. Thank you...Cagalli."

It was the first time she called the blonde that way, with no honorific. Cagalli seemed surprised, but soon gave a pleased smile, though there was still some uncertainty lingering in her face. The blonde was hardly a person of logic, and those who relied on their intuition were harder to fool by pretty words and polished acts.

But Lacus ignored Cagalli's concern with a flawless smile and led their conversation in another direction. Soon, they were discussing a new international policy on drugs.

As she talked about a different subject, however, Lacus's mind was still on her previous thought, on the difference between herself and Cagalli concerning romance. Their romantic relationships were different not only because Kira and Athrun were quite different. Lacus and Cagalli were also different, nearly poles apart.

Cagalli couldn't abandon everything else for Athrun like Lacus could, and once had, for Kira. Cagalli had many things she loved, many people she loved besides Athrun while Lacus had only few. It meant that Cagalli had many things which supported her emotionally, which gave her the motivation to keep going on. Lacus had only Kira.

Lacus didn't know which was better—happier.

She knew it was foolish of her to wonder about it. She and Cagalli were different persons, and so, their happinesses were different. People had their own forms of happiness and just had to find the one that suit you instead of envying someone else's which was unlikely to fit you even if you gained it.

Still, she couldn't help wondering.

After dozens of minutes later, they exchanged friendly farewells. Lacus stretched her hand to cut the connection. But before her finger reached the button, Cagalli said, "Wait."

Lacus looked at the blonde quizzically. "Is there anything?"

Cagalli appeared uncertain again. "Well, it's just...are you sure there is nothing you want to tell me about?"

The blonde's persistent concern somewhat touched her. But Lacus gave words of denial just as persistently. "No, I do not think so. Thank you for your concern, though."

After a moment, Cagalli nodded. "Okay. Bye, then."

They waved hands, and Lacus pushed the off button. As soon as Cagalli's face disappeared from the screen, though, Lacus dropped her smile.

A part of her slightly regretted rejecting Cagalli's offer to help so adamantly. But what she had told the blonde wasn't a lie. She rarely lied; she was just not always entirely truthful. She had nothing she _wanted_ to talk to Cagalli about. She didn't want to tell the blonde what had happened.

It wasn't because she doubted Cagalli's reliability. She was sure the blonde would be on her side even if it meant condemning her brother. And it wouldn't be because Lacus was her best friend. It was because Cagalli didn't approve of something like cheating. At the same time, she wouldn't cut Kira off because of his mistake either, and probably would be there for him as well.

Therefore, Lacus didn't have to hesitate to tell Cagalli about Kira's affair due to the worry that it might cause a rift between him and his sister, hesitate for Kira's sake. The reason of her reluctance to confide in Cagalli was not Kira or Cagalli but herself. She just didn't want to.

Maybe because Cagalli was Kira's sister and like him in many ways, reminding Lacus of him. Maybe because of her envy toward the blonde. Maybe because she didn't want anyone else to get involved in her and Kira's business. Maybe because she just didn't want to talk about it. Or maybe because it was Cagalli.

As much as her gratefulness toward the blonde's concern was also true, a part of her felt like saying, "What do you know?" What could Cagalli possibly know?

Cagalli was allowed to make mistakes. She had been criticized for her decisions during the Second Bloody Valentine War. Many people—including Cagalli herself—openly admitted she had not acted wisely. But many people still supported her as their leader. People knew she wasn't a perfect lady, but many people still loved her. They wouldn't become disappointed in her and desert her just because she revealed that she was a human who had flaws and made mistakes like anyone else.

It was the same with her romantic relationship. Cagalli couldn't be a perfect girlfriend, completely devoting herself to her romantic relationship, always putting her boyfriend first. She was too dedicated to her job and country, and would probably always be torn between her personal life and her public duty. She had gone against Athrun's wishes for Orb; she had even decided to marry another man. Nevertheless, Athrun loved her and stayed with her.

As for herself, Lacus didn't know how many people would maintain the same attitude toward her when she made a mistake, when she failed to live up to their expectations and shattered their fantasy—delusion. She didn't really want to know. She didn't really want to think about it.

People said she was popular. People said she was loved. It was partially true. But what did they really love? Whom did they really love? She had never been able to feel it was her.

It was the perfection, the illusion of someone inhumanly perfect. It wasn't her. It wasn't love. Not the kind of love she wanted, at least.

Seeing someone as perfect meant you were seeing them as something not human. Treating someone as if they were perfect unlike everyone else meant you weren't treating them as a fellow human being. Many people didn't realize how cruel it was.

_But you use it to your advantage_, a voice in her head mercilessly pointed out.

She had to admit that the illusion was a major factor in her large influence. But still, she hated that people saw her as some kind of perfect being better than an ordinary human. Sometimes, she hated those who did, who even dared to directly tell her she was so different from others—as if it was a good thing—without realizing how unkind they were being, without knowing how much they were hurting her by that comment.

_Because you don't tell them._ The voice came again, making her face another truth.

That people kept treating her that way was partially her own fault for she didn't explain to them how she didn't want them to act like that, how much she didn't want to be treated like that. Pouring out her true feelings to strangers, to people who she didn't know were trustable, had never been her way; she was too inclined to guard her heart.

Just because you saw someone as a real person, or even understood them, it didn't mean you liked them. It could even work in the opposite way: the more you understood someone, the more you disliked them. Like the redhead had seemed to be seeing Lacus as a human being just like herself and understand her to an extent, but still dislike her.

The knowledge was partly why Lacus was so protective of her true self. She carefully observed others to figure out how much of herself she could trust with them. And she hesitated to reveal her aversion toward being seen as perfect to the public for fear that it might result in their dislike toward her. She didn't think she was weak enough to let the rejection of the masses break her. But it didn't mean it wouldn't hurt her.

At least, her boyfriend saw her as an actual human being and still liked her. And she believed he accepted her completely, even the parts he didn't like.

...But would he still choose to stay with her if she repeatedly displeased him or didn't give him what he wanted? Like understanding someone and liking them were different, accepting someone as a whole or loving someone as they were wasn't the same as wanting or choosing to stay in a relationship with them. They were two related but different matters. It was possible that Kira accepted her fully and loved her dearly, but still chose to leave her because she was different from what he wanted.

Could she say with certainty that he would stay with her even if she wasn't a devoted girlfriend, a girlfriend who met all his needs? True, she had not always accommodated his wishes. For example, she had refused to let him come with her to space, leaving the Archangel, during the Second Bloody Valentine War.

However, it had not been exactly because she cared about other things than him. She had told him not to come partly because of her principles, because she believed that he shouldn't abandon doing what he had decided to do: helping Cagalli protect and convince the Orb forces.

But the biggest reason had been because she cared about _him_, because she knew he was different from her. She could abandon almost anything for him: her job, her dream, her duty, her country. Even her friends, if necessary. She could still be happy if she had him. But not Kira. He couldn't be happy by abandoning everyone else. He needed other people besides her in order to be happy.

She had known that abandoning Cagalli and the Archangel crew who were more likely to engage in a battle and therefore needed him more would eventually make him regret his decision, that he could never forgive himself if something happened to them as a result of his deserting them. And he must have understood her, why she was rejecting his wish.

It wasn't the same as Cagalli and Athrun's case. Lacus had been more of a perfect girlfriend. It didn't mean she had been pretending or doing what she didn't want to do for his sake. But it didn't change the fact that she had never taken an action that pushed Kira to his limit, made him as angry and frustrated as Cagalli's decisions had made Athrun. She wasn't sure whether she could go as far as Cagalli had gone.

Not that she wanted to. But was it because she simply didn't want to trouble Kira like that? ...Or was it because she was afraid he might make a different choice from Athrun's? She couldn't be certain about which was true, or which reason was bigger. Especially now.

The earlier question came back: Which was happier, someone like Lacus or someone like Cagalli? Someone who could act like a perfect girlfriend, or someone who couldn't.

The former would be desired by more people and be more likely to have the person she wanted. But the latter would be more likely to be loved as herself, desired despite her imperfection, despite her inability to meet the expectations of the person she wanted.

Cagalli could even choose to leave her boyfriend. She had actually chosen to protect and work for her country even if it meant losing Athrun. Twice.

Lacus doubted that she could do the same with Kira, or that she would be able to become happy with the decision even if she could choose the path. She and Cagalli were so different indeed.

Prior to Kira's affair, Lacus had never thought her romantic relationship, her relationship with Kira, was inferior to or less happy than other people's. If anything, she had believed it was one of the best, more or less perfect.

_Perfect._

The word stunned her. She tightly squeezed her eyes shut, feeling dizzy. Had she really believed such a thing? When she knew very well that there was nothing truly perfect?

She had just blamed others for treating her as a perfect being a couple of minutes ago. And yet, here she was, realizing that she had been just the same as those she criticized.

It was almost laughable. Was there a better proof than this that she wasn't the perfect goddess people believed her to be? That she was a flawed human being just like everyone else?

It ought to make her feel relieved, or at least feel better by its sheer ridiculousness. Instead, it hurt. It was painful to realize that another thing, her perfect dream—even if it had only been a delusion, or an illusion—had been taken away from her.

The sense of loss that had been plaguing her since she had heard Kira's confession intensified and swallowed her.

She had become happy when she had "found" Kira, found that he was the person she had been looking for for a long time. She had thought that she would always be happy as long as she could be with him in whatever way. The belief had grown stronger when he returned her feelings and they became lovers.

Now, however, she couldn't feel happy. The happiness had been destroyed. It was lost to her, maybe forever.

The pain of loss was almost strong enough to make her call Cagalli back, accepting the blonde's offer after all.

And doing it wouldn't be an impulsive decision triggered by the pain. She didn't act on impulse. She was a person of reason and logic, and her reason was also encouraging her to do it. She was aware that she needed to let her emotions out in some way. Crying on Cagalli's shoulder—not literally for they were million miles away from each other—and even complaining to the blonde about her current situation seemed like a good choice, if not the only one.

However, it meant opening her heart to Cagalli, dropping her guard and exposing herself completely, which wasn't her nature. She was fairly certain that unlike many people, Cagalli wouldn't disappoint her, that the blonde would receive Lacus's show of vulnerability with compassion and give Lacus what she needed. And yet, Lacus still couldn't gather the courage to take again the risk she had taken with Kira.

Cagalli would most likely help her and make her feel better now, for a while. ...But how long would it continue? How long would it be until the blonde betrayed her trust, broke her heart, just like Kira had?

It was, she realized, half of the reason why she had refused to confide in Cagalli earlier. She just couldn't believe anymore. It was another thing she had lost: trust. This time, the realization of loss was chilling rather than painful.

Her mind was telling her that Cagalli's case and Kira's case were different and were unlikely to produce the same result. But her heart was too wounded to agree. And her body didn't move, couldn't move when her mind and heart were at odds like that.

* * *

Considering her delusion again, she feels more strongly that she was stupid not to see this coming, not to realize the risk of Kira cheating on her and take necessary precautions.

Things haven't been easy for him since he came to PLANT to be with her a few months ago. PLANT was a country completely foreign to him; he has no ties to it, emotional or otherwise. And he has been in a position of high responsibility in ZAFT when he was never properly trained as a soldier and isn't used to the life of military despite fighting two wars as a mobile suit pilot.

In addition, although he is treated well enough for someone who fought against PLANT in both of the recent wars, mostly because he is her boyfriend, there are still some people who give him a hard time both inside and outside ZAFT, people his job requires him to work with sometimes.

On top of that, he is nearly alone here. There are familiar faces like Dearka and Yzak, but they are hardly his best friends and are too busy to pay close attention to him. And he isn't very good at handling loneliness and tends to turn to women for comfort. It was probably just a matter of time for him to give in to the comforting touch of a woman.

There are things she could, and probably should, have done, not only to prevent his indiscretion, but also to prepare herself in case it still happened. She never pushed herself to try to open up to others the way she did to Kira. Even with Athrun and Cagalli, her closest friends, she has always held back a part of herself, not completely baring her heart to them. She didn't try to find someone she could turn to when she couldn't count on Kira, as if finding him had completely solved her problem and there was no need for her to keep looking.

And now, she feels unable to build such an open relationship with someone else even if she tries hard.

She wonders whether her lack of preparation was partly because she enjoyed her "isolation," having only one person she could trust with her heart, in a way. It is romantic, isn't it? You close your heart to everyone but your lover because they are the only person you need, the only person who matters.

She might not have been so different from those naive people who believe in the idea of soul mates or the one, the idea that you need only one person and nothing else because the person makes you complete, whole, and that once you find them, you will always be happy from then on. Just like a fairy tale.

Although she may be a romantic to an extent and has a childlike side, she never considered herself to be naive. But then, naive people are unaware of their naivete. Maybe she unknowingly had a naive side which caused her to stop searching for people she could open her heart to after finding Kira, as if her life was a fairy tale that ended as the heroine finally found her soul mate and got together with him, a fantasy story where the heroine didn't have to make any effort after getting her happy ending, her romantic relationship, because her happiness afterward was guaranteed.

And that side of her might have believed, or wanted to believe, that nothing that could make her lose her faith in Kira would happen, that he would never do something like that, as if he was a perfect person, a perfect boyfriend. She might have been unconsciously doing to him what others do to her, what she resents others for doing.

The thought reminds her of the bitterness she felt toward others a little while ago, and she feels slightly guilty.

She had already realized, after the call with Cagalli two days ago, that she wasn't much different from those who expected her to be perfect. But still, she couldn't help accusing them, those who shared a flaw with her, earlier.

At the same time, though, a part of her enjoys basking in this newly realized flaw of hers, in her humanness which includes blaming others for something she is also guilty of. In a sense, she is getting back at those who see her only as a perfect being by doing it. And it is harmless. She isn't actually hurting anyone by her "revenge." Then, she should be allowed a little indulgence like this, shouldn't she? She is just one human no different from everyone else, after all.

Not to mention it isn't wrong to point out other people's errors even when you make the same error. It isn't like she pretends not to have the flaw herself.

Besides, although the satisfaction the "revenge" brings to her isn't huge, it still somewhat soothes her resentment and pain, which makes it easier for her to maintain control over herself, to keep those negative emotions from turning into something darker, from thickening the darkness that already exists in her. It diminishes the possibility that she might carry out an actual, harmful revenge on the world that constantly disappoints and devastates her.

A thought suddenly occurs to her. Is this guilty pleasure a part of why people like the redhead indulge in immoral acts?

Then she feels angry, at the possibility that she may be able to understand the redhead's behavior, at herself for trying to. But then, isn't it exactly what she believes in, what she has been telling others to do? To try to understand your enemy instead of seeing them as monsters or creatures so different from you that you and they can never understand each other.

Biting her lower lip, she tries to be calm and gather her thoughts, pushing the anger aside. Yes, it is true that she shouldn't see the redhead as someone who is completely different from her, let alone something less than a human. She has already noticed a few similarities between them, and may be actually able to understand the redhead. However, it doesn't mean she has to try now, or soon for that matter. There is no urgent need for her to do it.

In fact, what she needs to do right now is something different. She has to figure out how to deal with this situation first. And she doesn't believe that understanding the redhead will help her do it. Although the redhead somehow affects her than most people do, probably because of what she reminds her of, the woman isn't her current problem.

Succeeding in formulating a logical justification for putting off making an attempt to get into the redhead's head, which certainly won't be pleasant, Lacus feels relieved. The anger she put aside diminishes as well.

Dealing with her emotions with logic like she just did is normal to her. It is partly why she can hold her emotions in check and keep them to herself most of the time, which she prefers to expressing them in a disorganized or intense way. ...Can it be part of the problem, part of why she is suffering so much, though?

Cagalli's words come back to her mind. The blonde said that if Athrun cheated on her, she was going to take out her anger on him. Using violence isn't a commendable way of dealing, and Lacus would probably never resort to that. But she can still release her anger, her pain, and her distress on Kira, in a more peaceful way. And she can surely do that without losing control of herself, can't she?

After all, she asked Cagalli what the blonde would do when being cheated on because she wanted to know what other ways there were to deal with emotions besides her usual way, wanted to know whether there was another suitable way to handle a situation like this. And trying Cagalli's way with some adjustments doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Expressing emotions seems to always work with Cagalli or Kira, making them feel better afterward. Lacus herself did feel better at times when she showed her honest feelings to those she could trust like when she cried in front of Kira for the first time, letting out her pent-up grief over her father's death which she had not been able to show others. She has even shared with him her distress over being seen and treated as a perfect being, for which he consoled her.

...But this time, the feelings she is holding back aren't toward something outside their relationship. They exist inside the relationship, directed toward Kira. What if venting such emotions at him pushes him away? What if it increases his feelings of guilt?

She still trusts him to accept every side of her, even her anger toward him. However, she can't completely trust him to still choose to be with her. And even if he does, he may be too weak to properly deal with her negative emotions toward him, the depth of her anger and hurt and distrust, her shattered heart, the fact that it is all his doing. Hasn't she learned during the past month how weak he can be? Although he said he wouldn't repeat the mistake, she can't believe those words, trust him to keep the promise, to not hurt her again, either.

He has already been in a low mood, obviously suffering over his mistake. Sometimes, he suddenly hugs her and says he loves her, not in a happy, affectionate way but in a way that shows his guilt, and his need for comfort which she fulfills. Furthermore, her sources in ZAFT told her that he became rather withdrawn at the workplace. She herself has noticed that he became reluctant to go out with his co-workers. And it seems to lower his mood even further probably because the lack of socialization makes him feel lonelier.

She has been worried that his dark mood might cause him to fall for another woman's seduction again. She has been encouraging him more strongly to have some fun with his colleagues, though she doesn't forget to warn him by saying something like, "You will be fine, Kira. I am sure you know your limits now." It may have somewhat contributed to his bad mood, but she can't help but give a warning; at least, she keeps it gentle and oblique.

It actually displeases her that she should be the one who puts extra effort into taking care of him, even comforting him, when _he_ hurt _her_. But she hasn't been able to show her displeasure to him, for fear that it would just push him toward another woman's arms. She is more or less his only source of support in PLANT. If he feels like he can't count on her, then, won't he turn to other women again?

Probably, she should discreetly coax him into talking to someone, his family or friends in Orb, about his affair. As far as she knows, he hasn't told anyone about it, probably because of shame. But if he confesses his sin and distress over it to someone close to him, his feelings of guilt and shame will probably subside to an extent.

Even so, however, it won't be a permanent solution. The root of the problem is his weakness. How can she solve it? How can she make sure he won't repeat the same mistake? Is there really such a way?

Her mind leads to the thought she has pondered several times since his affair. Is what happened her fault as well?

After all, didn't she just think that she might have seen him as a perfect boyfriend like many people saw her as a perfect goddess? She had also blamed PLANT citizens, people who saw only what they wanted to see, people who saw her as a perfect being, for causing her to return to PLANT and engage in politics, hadn't she? If they are somewhat responsible for her current situation, doesn't it mean she is also responsible for Kira's mistake?

Maybe he sensed her delusion, her ignorance of the possibility that he might succumb to his weakness, and maybe it made him feel distant toward her, made it difficult for him to seek comfort from her. And maybe that is why he turned to the redhead for comfort.

But she has been paying as much attention to him, his well-being and happiness, as she can with her busy schedule. She asked her comrades and supporters in ZAFT to help him adjust to new surroundings, and regularly talks to them about how well he is doing. She makes sure to have some alone time with him nearly every day, even if it isn't long, and encourages him to discuss his problems with her while they spend time together. She has been doing everything she can, as much as she can, for him. Was it still not enough?

...Or maybe she was doing too much. Even before they started dating, she had always given him what he needed: a mobile suit, a comrade, attention, comfort, support, cheer, affection, care, and devotion. Maybe she devoted herself to him too much, and now that he isn't the only one she takes care of, now that her attention is divided between him and PLANT, he is feeling lonely—neglected, no matter how well she is still looking after him.

Just like someone who is used to a pampered life, having all of their needs always fulfilled, will feel like they are treated unfairly badly when others don't wait on them hand and foot even though others acting like that is actually normal, what ordinary people would expect.

If that is the case, it is still partially her fault since she is the one who spoiled him.

Or is she just making an excuse for him? She is aware that she feels like she failed to do what she was supposed to do partly because of what others say: When a man cheats on his wife or girlfriend, it is the woman's fault. Both the wife or girlfriend and the other woman. The wife or girlfriend should have been attentive and kept her man in place so that he wouldn't make a mistake. If she has failed at that job, that duty, she can't blame the man for giving in to temptation. A man is a man after all. He is helpless against his manly desire.

Men can't be held accountable for their actions when it comes to sex. They should be praised when they are loyal to their partners and shouldn't be blamed when they stray from the path, which is a simple mistake women shouldn't care, much less get angry about. A woman accusing her man of committing such a small indiscretion is foolish and unkind, the type of woman who destroys with her own hands her happiness which she could maintain if she were wiser. The type of woman who deserves being cheated on. The type of woman who drives her man to cheat on her, even. It must have been her own fault all along.

So, blame yourself. Or if you want to blame someone else, blame the other woman because she is the one who tempted your man to betray you. But never, ever blame the man.

_No._ Lacus gives her head a hard shake, trying to cast off the words seeping into her. Those unjust, wrong words of prejudiced people can never dictate her action, or reaction. She wouldn't let them. She wouldn't let herself be their puppet.

It is much, much easier to be angry toward someone you don't like or don't even know than toward someone you care about. It is a lot less painful to blame a stranger than to acknowledge a fault or a flaw of someone you love.

And the attitude of the redhead makes it easier for Lacus to hate her. The woman might have intentionally acted in an especially dislikable way exactly for that reason, to make Lacus blame her for Kira's cheating, which went against Lacus's principles.

Either way, Lacus can't let herself give in to the temptation to blame everything on the redhead. No matter how much a part of her enjoys being a flawed human like others, she can never allow herself to actively commit an act she tells people not to, to break her principles. If there is one thing she can never abandon even for Kira, it is them.

Her clear principles. Her strong faith in them. Her firm determination to follow them. Her pride in being such a person. They are what makes her her most. And they depend on this fight, the fight with herself.

Once she succumbs to her weakness, she will lose her dignity. Even if no one knows about it, she will know, and her conscience won't let her act like nothing happened. She will lose everything that is left for her. She can't bear it. She can't stand even more things being taken away from her by this. She would not allow it.

She purses her lips into a firm line and taps into the cold, hard steel inside her to tighten control over herself.

No matter how hard it is, she has to admit that the redhead is right. Kira is the unfaithful one, the one who should take most of the blame. She might have pushed him unknowingly, and the redhead might have seduced him quite cleverly, taking advantage of his drunken state and loneliness. But still, his actions are his responsibility.

...But what should she do then? What should she do with these emotions? She can't release them on Kira. She can't direct them toward the redhead. She can't even share them with her friends. Then, what?

_Hide them_, is the only answer she can come up with.

It may be partly out of habit, but isn't just that. Showing the emotions is risking her relationship with Kira. And she can't lose him. She can't imagine her life without him. ...No, it isn't that. She _can_, and that's the problem. The life she imagines, the life without him, is so horrible. So lonely.

He is the only person who actually showed her that people who weren't her parents could accept her as she was, accept every part of her including the part many people didn't like. He is the one who proved her hopes, for herself and for humanity, right. And she doubts that she can find another man she can love as much as she loves Kira, love the way she loves Kira if she lets Kira go. Especially now that her ability to trust others is severely damaged, if not completely broken.

He made her happier than anyone ever had, gave her the kind of happiness her parents couldn't, the kind you could only feel when someone who wasn't your family accepted you as a whole. And she can't picture her happiness without him. It seems that if she loses him, her life won't have any purpose, any meaning, even.

She is acutely reminded of how she doesn't have anything she cares about as much as she does Kira. Her principles are important enough to her to be able to make her abandon him, like the time at Mendel. But they don't give her happiness or a purpose of life. They tell her how to live her life, but not the reason to live.

Until she fell in love with Kira, her biggest dream, her main purpose of life, was to find people who could understand and accept her as herself, find someone who could love her wholly and whom she could truly love. Afterward, it became living peacefully with him and a few other people she cared about.

She was never the kind of person who dreams for and pursuits something larger than herself. All she has ever wanted is a quiet life with people she loves, not becoming one of the most important people in the universe or accomplishing great deeds. She didn't become an idol because of fame or glory. She was seeking for understanding, acceptance, and love.

And she doesn't have as much sense of duty as her friends do. Although she is willing to be helpful when she can, she doesn't feel the need to save or protect other people she doesn't even know personally, especially if the cost is her own well-being or happiness.

For example, had she been in Cagalli's place, she wouldn't have taken the position of Chief Representative when she didn't have reliable allies and her power wasn't secured, or accepted getting engaged to and later marrying a man she didn't love despite loving someone else, even if for the sake of her country and people, even to keep them safe and happy. She wouldn't sacrifice her personal happiness like that.

After the First Bloody Valentine War, she didn't waver even a little about her decision to follow Kira to the Earth and retire to Reverend Malchio's island, even though many members of the Clyne faction wanted her to remain their leader and come back to PLANT, and asked her to do so for PLANT's sake. She had no interest in taking such a role, or resuming working as an idol.

Being a singer had always been more of a hobby than a job to her, and a means to get what she desired. She didn't feel the need to cling to it now that she had found Kira. Being with him, who actually accepted her as a whole instead of indirectly accepting a part of her through her songs, was much, much more important. She didn't hesitate to give up her previous life to be around him and take care of him.

She felt no obligation to PLANT, her comrades, or her fans, nor guilt over pursuing her own happiness.

That is partly why she can almost always maintain her calm, keep herself together. Because she has only few she personally cares about, only a couple she truly, strongly cares about. It doesn't mean she is heartless. But she knows that her feelings toward most people or things are rather generic, something you feel for a stranger or what is happening outside of your life, like in a faraway country. The emotion, whether it is sadness or concern or pity, may be genuine, but it doesn't shake you, much less break you.

And that is one of the factors that make her look so perfect. Because she rarely has strong emotions that drive her into taking an action when she isn't prepared, when she isn't sure she can succeed. Those who care about many things and care strongly are more likely to take an action unprepared, and therefore, more likely to make a mistake and fail.

Also, she doesn't give in to emotions. She was never sentimental or soft-hearted. She can be almost unfeelingly collected and calculating, steeling her heart against a plea for help, against people's suffering and pain, ignoring them when necessary, which someone like Kira doesn't seem able to.

Perfection isn't warm. Perfection isn't soft. Perfection isn't kind. It is the opposite of those things. It doesn't necessarily mean someone who can pretend to be prefect doesn't have those qualities. It is just that if someone can keep the mask of perfection on for a while, they undoubtedly have a certain amount of coldness, hardness, and harshness. As Lacus does.

Although she loved PLANT, her home country, and cherished peace, she stayed in the sidelines in the beginning of both of the two great wars rather than proactively do something for them. The lack of passion and the tendency to act on logic and reason makes her rather passive, not exactly a person who takes an action without prompting. She tends to sit and wait, only reacting to someone else's action.

In the First Bloody Valentine War, the person was Kira. He inspired her and made her want to do something, for him as much as for the peaceful world, if not more.

In the Second Bloody Valentine War, it was Dullindal who dragged her back into the war first by attempting to assassinate her. But it was again Kira who made her choose to be more active than just helping her friends and comrades as a part of the Archangel crew. She wasn't the one who decided to rescue Cagalli from the political marriage and leave Orb. She wasn't the one who decided to intervene in battles to stop and protect the Orb forces. She just followed the others, followed Kira, giving some help but doing nothing more. Because she didn't want to do more.

Because she wasn't ready to take back the role of the Songstress of Peace, or the leader of the Clyne faction. That is partly why she had hesitated to let Kira pilot the Freedom again, despite the fact that lives of their friends and family, not just theirs, were in danger. She had sensed that giving him the key to the Freedom would eventually bring him, and her in turn, back to the battlefield, which led to her returning to what she had been before from a common girl living on an island she had become after the previous war. She had wanted to prolong the day when she had to end the life she had been comfortably living for two years as much as possible.

However, after the Archangel left Orb to search the path to the future they wanted, Kira was struggling to figure out how to find it. He was unsure about what to do and had an even harder time since they had found out that Athrun had rejoined ZAFT and been fighting against them.

His suffering also stemmed from the fact that he wasn't the type eager to be in charge, to take the responsibility for everything and everyone on him. He does it if he thinks that is the only way, but it doesn't mean he enjoys it.

So, she decided to do more work to help him find the way, instead of working only as an operator, holding back her real power. Just as she had decided to stand up and fight for peace to support him during the previous war, she decided to regain the position of the leader of the Clyne faction to give more help to him.

Another reason was to lessen his responsibility by being active, to take some burdens off his shoulders by fighting her own battle. The matter concerning Meer was more of her problem than his, after all.

Still, she had remained to work behind the scenes until Dullindal, using Meer, unintentionally pulled her into the front stage. At that time, putting herself under the spotlight seemed like the only way to reveal the man's scheme, to show to the public that the chairman wasn't what he seemed like, to plant into their heads the suspicion that the man wasn't as trustworthy as he had been painting himself to be.

She needed to shake Dullindal's credibility; it was necessary in order to stop the man and protect Orb, the country Kira and her friends wanted to protect. And she was partially responsible for the man's success to gain such popularity, for he had been using her image and influence she had built and then rather carelessly abandoned for anyone to abuse; it was her job more than anyone else's to solve that problem.

She didn't exactly do it for personal reasons, though. More than anything, she did it because that was what she had decided to do: help Kira find the way to a future where he could be happy and get back peace. She was more trying to follow through with her decision than trying to realize her wishes. And she didn't think interfering with Meer's speech and making an appearance in front of the world would prevent her from fulfilling her second biggest wish. She assumed that she would still be able to go back to a quiet life, live like a "normal" girl, after the war was over just like she had after the previous war even if it would be somewhat harder than before.

Fighting against the Destiny Plan was the same. Although she didn't really approve of the plan, she wasn't sure she would have still decided to fight to stop the plan if Kira had not been so adamant about it. Just like earlier in the war, just like in the previous war, he was the one who chose to go to the battlefield, and she tagged along to support him.

But then, Meer Campbell changed everything, changed Lacus. The girl's death greatly shook her because she saw herself as partially responsible for it. Without the image of Lacus Clyne the Songstress of Peace, the icon Lacus had created during the First Bloody Valentine War, or had Lacus not disappeared from the public eye after the previous war, Meer probably wouldn't have gotten involved in Dullindal's scheme and died. The girl's death was a consequence of Lacus's choices and actions, as much as Dullindal's and Meer's own. And the girl died protecting Lacus.

After Meer's death, fighting against Dullindal became personal for Lacus. Lacus couldn't forgive the man for using the girl and causing her to die, for making Lacus a part of it. Not to mention how Dullindal treated Meer, giving her a role to play and throwing her away like a worthless object once she became unable to perform the task for him anymore, had brought home to Lacus how wrong the plan was, what the world would be like if Dullindal succeeded.

Thus, she became resolved to defeat the man and changed her attitude. She aroused the morale of her comrades with strong words and encouraged Kira to fight when he felt hesitant instead of simply helping him make his own decision.

Meer was also a large part of the reason why Lacus stayed at center stage, entering the political world, after the war. She felt like she owed it to Meer to create and protect a peaceful world. She couldn't allow herself to retreat into the simple life on an island again no matter how much she wanted it. Not with a good conscience. Although she doesn't exactly regret her decision after the Fist Bloody Valentine War, for she and Kira might not be lovers had she not chosen that path, it is still one of the things that led to Meer's death.

And she was afraid that if she chose the same path, history might repeat itself. There might be another Dullindal, and another Meer. Lacus couldn't let such a thing happen. She couldn't have the death of another girl who adored her on her hands, on her conscience. Even if she could have a peaceful life away from war and politics, she wouldn't be able to live happily that way. Meer had taught her so.

Meer made becoming a politician, remaining to be a public figure, more significant for Lacus. It is neither what Kira wants her to do nor what Lacus herself likes to do. Yet, doing it became essential for her happiness.

She even braced herself for living far away from Kira for several years, while she worked as the Chairwoman of PLANT. She knew he preferred living as a commoner to engaging in military and politics just like her, which was one of the factors that had attracted her to him.

However, he decided to come to PLANT with her, support her from nearby instead of from afar. She can vividly remember how happy his decision made her. She was even happier than when he had accepted her feelings for him. He left everything else he cared about—his family, his friends, his country, his peaceful life—behind to be close to her.

...And yet, ironically, that decision of his seemed to be the cause of her current misery, of this gut-wrenching pain that wouldn't leave her.

Would they be happier had they chosen to have a long-distance relationship instead? He must feel lonely without her by his side, but there would be many people in Orb who could comfort him without getting sexually involved with him. He would be surrounded by his family and friends and wouldn't need a woman's comfort as much. It would be easier for him to fight off the temptation.

Apparently, however, the great happiness his choice brought to her blinded her, and now, she has to live with the consequence of her ignorance.

And her fear that she might lose her personal happiness forever if she lost Kira isn't the only reason why she can't lose him, why she can't even consider breaking up with him no matter how much he hurts her.

She is bound to her job at least for several more years, not by her sense of duty or even her guilt and regret concerning Meer. As she thought earlier, no one but yourself can truly bind you. And her chain, her prison, is her principles. She chose to take the job. Then, she has to see it through to the end.

There is also another desire, along with the one to be the kind of person who follows her beliefs. She wants a peaceful world, not just because of Meer but more because she herself wants a peaceful life, both physically and psychologically. She wants to live without anyone being after her life or being bothered by her conscience. What she is currently doing is a means to accomplish that goal.

And in order to do that, to keep doing her job, she needs Kira. She needs someone who sees her, accepts her, and loves her as just Lacus, as a human, in order to keep fighting this battle in the political world, this battle that makes her look even more superhuman in many people's eyes than before. If she loses Kira, she may reach her limit and fall by the wayside. She may not only have to have a gloomy and lonely life, but also have to suffer from the feeling of guilt stemming from the fact that she couldn't accomplish what she herself had decided she should do.

Thus, it is nearly impossible for her to take an action that can lead to their breakup; too much is at risk. She can't find a way other than keeping her negative emotions all to herself because she doesn't want such a devastating future she can't help picturing at the thought of taking the risk of losing him.

Also, there is another future she wants to avoid: his having an affair again. She doesn't want to hear those heartbreaking words ever again.

And how can she acquire the future she wants where he is with her and having no more affairs? You can't really change others, change who they are. She probably can't make Kira get rid of his weakness.

Then, the best way, if not the only way, to accomplish the goal, to protect her heart, seems like becoming a perfect girlfriend.

Although Kira's cheating is mostly his fault, it doesn't mean she is blameless, not because that is what people say but because she was delusional. And it may actually be a good thing, for it means that there is something she can do to prevent the same thing from happening.

She may not be able to change Kira, but she can change herself. She has to get rid of her delusion; she should never let anything delude herself. She has to become a girlfriend who is fully aware of all his weaknesses and flaws, but accepts them and takes care of them so that they won't cause him to make another mistake.

She knew that was what she had to do from the beginning, since right after hearing Kira's confession. She already made the choice then. Yet, she has been wavering for about a month, wondering whether there really isn't any other way, which is uncharacteristic of her. It is partly because she had to make the decision so quickly then, having no time to analyze the situation closely and resign herself to the decision, and partly because Kira's mistake was so shocking that her head has been messed up, to the extent of making her act in a way atypical of her.

But it is probably time for her to stop vacillating and steel herself. It seems that she was right about acting the way she did after hearing about Kira's affair, right about acting like a perfect girlfriend. And now, she should follow through with her choice.

What a perfect girlfriend, a perfect woman, would do in this situation is to forgive her boyfriend and act as if nothing happened, caring and supporting and loving as always. She also needs to take even better care of him so that he won't feel the need for another woman's comfort, so that his weakness won't have a chance to show itself. She has to know his needs even before he himself does and satisfy them perfectly. No matter how busy her schedule gets, no matter how tired she gets, she shouldn't show it to him, not the true extent of it anyway. She has to make him believe that she always has time and energy for him, that he is always welcome to ask for her time, to talk to her, to seek comfort—or anything—from her.

He may not mind her not being perfect, but he certainly won't mind her being perfect, either. After all, he is a person who longs for a lot of care and attention, especially from a woman, a person who wants to be looked after rather than look after someone.

She long knew it and was fine with it. She likes to care for him. It is probably one of the reasons why he has been attracted to her. Because she always fulfils his needs. And probably, that is why sharing her with PLANT is so hard for him, hard enough for him to succumb to his weakness.

She slightly frowns. The speculation about his attraction toward what she does for him didn't trouble her before. But right now, it bothers her that he might choose her because she gave him a great deal of care and attention.

But then, does she have the right to blame him if it is the case? She is no longer sure about whether she wants him at her side because she loves him and wants a life with him or she wants him to stay with her so that she could achieve her goals, not only the goal of accomplishing the job as Chairwoman but also the goal of avoiding spending her life in loneliness.

He was a part of why she chose her current path. She wanted a peaceful world and life not only for herself but also for him and the others she cared about. Now, however, he feels like only a tool to her to maintain her strength, and gain understanding and acceptance—as if he is precious to her only because there is no one else who is able to provide what he offers to her, and if she can find one, he will be rendered replaceable, not needed anymore. ...Or was it always that way and she just wasn't aware? Has what she loves always been a person who gives her what she longed for for years, and Kira is just someone who happened to fit the definition, the role?

She shudders at the thought. This anguish that has been tormenting her for a month seems to have damaged her perception of her love for Kira as well. Now she can't even trust her feelings for him, can't believe in their authenticity. She feels as if she is falling further and further into a bottomless pit of which she doesn't know how to get out.

No, she tightly closes her eyes and tells herself, it isn't the only thing he is to her. It isn't the only reason why he is precious to her. She still loves him; she loves him for who he is. That is why their current situation hurts so much.

But...it doesn't mean she hasn't become what she has been afraid of, does it? She might have become the same as Dullindal, who used people close to him, even the woman he seemed to love, as tools to attain his destination.

She doesn't know the answer anymore. But then, does it matter? Even if a part of her sees Kira as a tool, she will still treat him well, give him everything in her power to give, whether it is care or comfort or love. Then, maybe it doesn't matter _to him_. If so, maybe it doesn't matter to her, either.

After all, why you choose to get into a relationship with someone or stay in the relationship isn't the most important thing, right? What is important is that both of you love and accept each other wholly and treat each other well. And she can do it.

She can also guide him and watch out for him so that he won't make the mistake again, if that is what he needs, what she needs to do.

It doesn't feel completely right. He should be able to look out for and take care of himself. It is how an adult should be. It is how an equal, healthy relationship works, both of them standing on their own feet instead of depending on their partner like a child depends on their guardian.

But what is an equal, healthy relationship to begin with? Can a relationship be called equal when she can't leave it but he probably can? Can a relationship be called healthy when it is the only meaning of life to her, when her world is practically revolving around him? Love isn't fair. Love makes you sick. And love is probably not equal, either. Maybe.

Or probably it is just her, her love. Not everyone in love is like this, she knows. Kira isn't. Neither Cagalli nor Athrun seems to be.

Then again, everyone is different, and loves differently. The faces of people she knows flash in her head one by one. She envies them, especially other women. Women like Cagalli, who have things as important as her romantic relationship, have a dream that has nothing to do with romance. Women like the redhead, who change partners one after another seemingly with no attachment to them. Women who don't rely her entire happiness on her romantic relationship, on one man.

Women like Lacus are more likely to be praised, to be said to be a "better woman," even an ideal woman. Many people say that you are happy if you have someone for whom you are willing to abandon everything, someone you can't imagine living without, or at least imagine a happy life without.

But is it really true? Don't they just plant those ideas in your head because women like her are more...convenient? Easier to control, to use, to take advantage of.

Isn't that what being a good woman is about, after all? Allowing men to control you, use you, take advantage of you.

Other women can fight without her partner. Other women are able to choose to leave her partner. Other women are not afraid of doing what she feels like doing even if people hate her for it. Other women don't have high abilities, and so, are free from heavy responsibilities. Other women don't have to do much more than taking care of herself and her partner.

Lacus wants to be them. She can't be them. She can't be anyone but herself.

And so, she will become a perfect girlfriend. It may not be totally right, but not entirely wrong, either. Protecting your happiness or trying to avoid unhappiness is never wrong. And becoming a perfect girlfriend seems like the only path to her happiness, or rather, the only path that doesn't lead to an unhappy life. She can't call what awaits her down the path a happiness. Not anymore. Or not yet. But still, she has to go. She has to do this, seemingly the only thing she can.

Her face contorts, though she isn't sure whether it is a smile or a crying face. Maybe both at once.

So, this is what it feels like, then. Not wanting to do something, or at least feeling unsure about whether you really want to do it, but feeling cornered enough to think you have no other way, and doing it anyway, without support from others at that.

She never had such an experience. She was always careful to not put herself in such a situation, to keep herself free and safe. She avoided getting involved any more than she had to and when she did, surrounded herself with people who were close to her or who could help her at least, so that she didn't have to act even though she didn't have her will along with her power. She believes that having both of them is essential in order to take an action.

However, you can't always escape from acting despite lacking what is essential. And her turn seems to have finally come—as if proving once again her belief and insistence that she is only one person no different from everyone else. No matter what people believe, fate, or stars or the universe, isn't exceptionally kind to her, pampering her and sparing her from hardships and her relationship from trials other people face.

She wonders how others, her boyfriend and her friends, survived an agonizing time like this. Kira, Athrun, Cagalli. They all had such an experience, and are still fine. Then, maybe she will be able to as well? At the same time, though, they didn't get through it without wounds, and she is scared of what more she is going to lose, how much damage she will have to endure, and what kind of state it will leave her. But at least it will leave her someday, right? She can survive this at the very least, can't she?

She doesn't know the answers, but knows it doesn't matter. Whether she likes it or not, she has to confront this trial. There is no way out.

And it seems fitting that it is Kira who is creating such a situation. He is the one who led her to the actual battlefield, into the wars. And then he has, unknowingly, led her to another kind of battlefield as well, into the war of love, the war against herself, the war which could completely break her if she lost it.

A teardrop slides down her cheek, finally coming out. It doesn't crush her or relieve her. It just makes her realize that she is really, really tired.

She stands up to walk back toward the house, not elegantly but not sluggishly either. Even at such a time, even when she is alone, she can't allow herself to carry herself with no dignity, as if she is broken, defeated. She is too inclined to smooth the surface even when her inside is shaking and cracking. It is one of the things causing her this suffering, but she can't let it go. It is too big a part of her, too deeply ingrained in her.

And she doesn't know whether she wants to even if she can. That part of her has been her rock as much as her burden; she is too attached to it. She also feels she needs it especially now when she has to be strong, stronger than she ever was.

A part of her wonders whether it is her strength that is causing her to choose this path, or it is her weakness.

But she doesn't want to think anymore. She just focuses on moving her feet which feel so numb that it seems as if they aren't her own. Her entire body feels the same. And the house she enters feels empty as if it isn't her home. The path she is walking feels strange as if it isn't to her own bedroom.

She enters the room and stands by the bed to stare at the young man sleeping there. He looks so comfortable as if he owns her bed, her house. No, this is his bed and house too, she tells herself. Technically, though, this estate is hers since it is the official residence of the Chairwoman of PLANT. He never seemed to care. She was glad about it before, glad that he wasn't the type of man who felt insecure by depending on his girlfriend about his house and job, or to be put off by her intelligence and talents.

Yet, the emotion rising within her now is rather the opposite of it. She almost hates how peaceful he looks, how it seems as if he owns the bed, the house—everything, while they feel strangely distant to her. As if he is the rightful owner and she is only a boarder allowed to live in it only with his permission.

She tells herself it isn't his fault. She is the one who welcomed him into the house—into her life, who offered to share what was hers, who provided him with what he needed even when he didn't ask. There is nothing wrong with appreciating what you are given. It isn't like he has not thanked her or has demanded more. Even her decision to become a perfect girlfriend was made of its own accord. She did it without his asking her to do so.

Just like an ideal woman, a perfect girlfriend, should and would do.

A bitter smile twists her lips for a second. She sure has been acting like a perfect girlfriend, hasn't she? Taking so much care to make his life as easy and comfortable as possible. Giving so much of herself to the task. Even long before she decided to be one.

Maybe she hasn't been as much of a free soul as she believed. Maybe she has been bound by social expectations more than she was aware. Maybe that is why she has been so strongly committed to protecting the freedom she has, tried so hard to avoid being restrained as much as possible.

Maybe she should be glad or relieved, or even proud, about it, that acting like a perfect girlfriend seems to come rather naturally to her whether it is because of years of deliberate practice or because she has been unconsciously shaping herself to fit into social expectations. It should make her job of being a perfect girlfriend easier in the days to come.

On the contrary, however, the burning sensation in her chest keeps increasing. She feels almost cheated.

She _was_ cheated, cheated on and cheated by sweet, empty promises of happily ever after.

Her body shakes as if a huge blow hit her, as if she finally realized what had happened. Her body wobbles more and more widely, as if something intense is coming out of her, as if she is going to explode. She thinks she may collapse to the ground and burst into tears, or begin screaming at the top of her voice until she goes hoarse.

But she doesn't.

An icy feeling washes over her, dousing her anger and hatred, as the calm, calculating voice inside her asks, _Do you really want to change your mind and show those emotions here, in front of him?_

Her response is quick. She forces her body to stop, to stand still. She takes deep, calming breaths though they don't seem necessary. The flame in her was already put out, leaving her cold and empty.

The realization just a minute ago made her even more afraid of revealing her honest feelings to Kira. If he was attracted to her because she had been acting like a perfect girlfriend even before they started dating, then it is more likely that he will leave her when he learns of how she feels toward him now. Love is no longer the single strongest emotion she holds toward him; there is deep resentment as well. And that is not how a perfect girlfriend should be.

But she has to become one, or at least closer to one than any other woman—so that he will always return to her even if he succumbs to temptation again.

The irony of her situation belatedly dawns on her. She fell in love with him because he had accepted her as a whole. She loves him partly because she believes he accepts every part of her. The complete acceptance, or the possibility of it, he offers her is a large part of why she is clinging to him, to her relationship with him, so desperately. And yet, she can't reveal her whole self to him anymore because of the attempt not to lose him.

The paradox at least gives her an answer she couldn't find earlier, though. Since she isn't going to show him her negative emotions toward him, she can't gain the pleasure of knowing he accepted even them. Since she will have to hide a part of her from him probably for the rest of their lives, and maybe even lie to him, in order to be a perfect girlfriend, she can no longer have his full acceptance of her. But still, she wants to be with him, wants him to be with her.

It is a proof that her love for him isn't solely based on what he gives her, that he isn't just a tool to her.

This realization certainly should make her relieved. But she doesn't feel any relief. Maybe because she now knows love isn't as beautiful or wonderful as she believed. Or because she feels detached from everything right now.

She doesn't feel anything, even pain. There is only emptiness. As if she isn't here. As if the woman standing here isn't her. As if this isn't her life.

It somehow feels as if she is looking at her own life from somewhere distant, as if she is just an observer, a bystander, not the one living it. She has always considered herself to be an observer rather than a participant, but never thought her life as something to observe. She never felt like this. She was always in control of her life, most of it anyway. But now, it feels like her life belongs to someone else.

It is as if someone—he—took everything away from her and there is only a hollow shell left.

Or maybe this is just how you feel when you have been completely disillusioned.

Either way, this is the man she chose. This is the life she chose.

Feeling much more exhausted than she was just a few minutes ago, she slowly slips into the bed, her back toward him.

Becoming a perfect girlfriend may not be so bad, she tells herself. If she looks more perfect, it may inspire him to try to become the same. He may put more effort into resisting the temptation on his own. Maybe she can make him stronger after all, drawing out his strength like he did to her before.

If she keeps pretending, she may be able to actually forgive him, and fully trust him again. Time will make people forget everything, and heal everything, right? Or almost everything, at least.

They may be able to be truly happy again. Maybe someday, even if it is in a far future. The happiness she is picturing—trying really hard to picture—may be just an illusion now, but she may be able to make it real if she keeps believing in it, just like she held onto her dream of finding someone like Kira and it came true. Just because she eventually found out that it wasn't enough, it doesn't negate the fact that her dream became a reality once.

The words sound as empty as those false promises of forever. No matter how slim it is, however, it is the only hope she has now, and she has to hold onto it.

Or maybe she can find a hope in the realization that eternity is just an illusion. If there is no eternal happiness, then there is no eternal suffering either, right? Her current suffering must end someday in one way or another, even if the way to the end, the battle she has to fight to reach there, feels as if it will continue forever.

The hope seems slightly more realistic, though it still gives her a bittersweet feeling to think that her sweet, perfect dream had to be broken to produce the hope.

With a quiet sigh, she closes her eyes. But sleep doesn't come despite her fatigue. A half of her is disappointed; she wants to just forget everything and escape to the land of dream, a perfectly happy place, even only for a moment. Another half of her is relieved; she hates living in a fantasy for a short time and then having to wake up to the reality—again.

After some time, she gives up and opens her eyes. With dry and wide eyes, she keeps gazing into darkness for a long time until the light of dawn seeps into the bedroom.

A couple more hours pass until she feels the man next to her shift and groan. She slowly turns her body to face the sleepy, half-lidded amethyst eyes, and puts on a sweet, beautiful smile, the most perfect smile she has ever smiled.

"Good morning, Kira."

* * *

**The End**

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**A/N**: Okay, I suppose many readers are angry at me for making Kira cheat on Lacus. So let me remind you of Kira's history with Fllay.

In my opinion, if you are capable of sleeping with your friend's girlfriend, you are capable of cheating on your girlfriend. They aren't so different. Both cases are a matter of loyalty, whether you follow your desire even if it means betraying someone close to you, and a matter of morality, how easily you engage in an immoral act like cheating or sleeping with someone who is in a relationship with someone else.

And in the original series, it was clearly shown that Kira was rather weak in these aspects when it came to sex, or the comfort sex offered.

I'm not saying he is a bad person or he doesn't care about others. He isn't and he does. He simply has weaknesses like an ordinary human being. He is, after all, just one person no different from everyone else as he himself said to Dullindal in the final episode of GSD, right?

The creators' comments haven't made me change my opinion. On the contrary, they have strengthened my opinion. In the commentary of remastered GSD, the director said along the line of "Kira is loose when it comes to women," pointing out that both Fllay and Lacus were someone else's fiancée. The scriptwriter had said a similar thing in an interview.

So, I don't think Kira in this fic is out of character.

That being said, this fic isn't about Kira. It's about Lacus as you can see. Partly because his problems were introduced and explored in the show, but her problems weren't. The problems in their relationship weren't dealt with in the show, either.

And for quite a while, I was feeling I hadn't done a good job of writing about Lacus. I was doing the same thing as the original series: avoiding directly writing about a certain part of her. The more I think about her, the more sickening and aggravating it becomes, and I don't like feeling that way. So I tried to go there as little as possible.

However, I also felt I needed to write about that side of her, like it was kind of my responsibility since I'd started to write about her, especially since I'd written "Water and Land" which seems to have been strengthening readers' image of Lacus they created based on the show instead of countering it. It made me feel like I'd been complicit in making her look like some kind of perfect being, which I hate.

Thus, I finally wrote a fic about what kind of woman I think Lacus is, or at least what kind of woman I think the creators of the original series wanted to make her look like.

···

I see Lacus as an Ideal Girlfriend with some twist. She passionately loves Kira, so much so that she leaves her fiancé for him. She goes to a great length to support him; it seems like the only goal and purpose she has, even. She abandons everything else to be with him, to take care of him. She prefers to stay at home, take care of kids, but still chooses to work outside her home in the end; in that way, he doesn't have to shoulder the burden of supporting their life by himself.

At the same time, she isn't _too_ strong and independent, not enough to not need him. Remember how she was clingy to Kira after they met Shinn and the others at the monument in Orb at the end of GSD? And I heard the director said in an interview that it wouldn't be good if Lacus became too strong.

Oh, and of course she is beautiful and smart and talented. A modern version of ideal girlfriend/wife: a superwoman who reduces her boyfriend/husband's burden as much as possible while being weak and dependent enough to protect his male ego.

It isn't to say she is a two-dimensional character that has no depth. In fact, I believe she is a well-thought out character. If you look really closely, you can find hints. The problem is that that's all she has: hints. Both her stories in GS and GSD were only implied, never shown, not even told, as if it was nothing important even though she was treated as a main character and the most important female character. She more or less existed only as a part of Kira's story or Athrun's story, and Meer's story.

She even doesn't have many conversations with other characters. (I don't call it a conversation if she just talks _to_ the other person/people instead of talking _with_ them.)

And as a result, she doesn't have much of a relationship with any character other than Kira. (I'm not sure if I can count her relationship with Athrun here, since it seems like...not really a good one. In their interactions after their engagement was canceled, Lacus almost always seemed to be patronizing, almost manipulating. Not to mention she rather monopolized the conversations. I doubt they had even one proper conversation in which both of them were honest, open, _and_ equal throughout the series.)

I don't know if it's part of her being an Ideal Girlfriend or due to the creators' effort to make her appear perfect. Both are likely. Either way, I really wish the creators had explored her flaws and problems, given her proper stories instead of (delegating them to other characters and) trying to present her as an inhumanly perfect being who is always right.

It's ironic, almost laughable, that they made Kira claim that Lacus is only one human being like everyone else just like himself, and yet, didn't treat her that way themselves.

And I'm not talking only about their attempt to hide, or at least failure to clearly show, her flaws and problems.

Other main characters (Kira, Athrun, Cagalli, and Shinn) faced hardships, struggled with their weaknesses or flaws or lack of ability to get what they wanted, and got pushed over the edge. Shinn, not so much as the other three; but he still experienced his share of hardships. And although he was more like Lacus in GSD, Kira at least struggled and suffered in GS.

Those struggles, their effort to solve their problems, both internal ones and external ones, gave the characters their own stories which drove the entire shows, and made them deserving of being a main character.

But not Lacus. She never went through a struggle, not on-screen anyway; as I said above, her stories were never properly shown to us viewers.

Whether intentionally or not, the creators made it look like while other characters have to work and suffer in order to be a main character, Lacus can be one just by existing. Because she is special, superior even. Which seriously conflicts with what Kira said in the end of GSD.

That's one of the things I hate about the series and one of the reasons why I wrote this fic.

I really hate the special treatment the creators gave Lacus, partly because I'm simply not a fan of a special treatment and partly because the special treatment is one of the factors that made GSD look like such a self-contradictory mess. Sometimes, I even wonder that the series, especially GSD, mightn't have been a lot better if Lacus were only a minor character or even weren't in it at all. Which is a shame since I liked her in GS.

···

Well, anyway, sorry this fic was so long. But I couldn't divide it into chapters. Thank you very much for still reading it until the end (assuming you already read the story). If you have written a review for my other fics, thank you for that too.

* * *

***edited 09/10/19***


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